


if you weren't around to trip me, would i really fall?

by GStK



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 19:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21463252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GStK/pseuds/GStK
Summary: when on those white and sudden afternoonsi take your eyes, and see the sun set twice.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Sothis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	if you weren't around to trip me, would i really fall?

**Author's Note:**

> Second-person PoV. Set after White Clouds, Chapter 10.

She’s buried in bed with you, sliding down until her chin is covered by blankets. They’ve sidelined you after your collapse, despite your protests. Hanneman will lead the classes in your stead -- Felix, too, you’ve heard. You can just about picture the disgust he would wear to see the abhorrent sword skills of your pupils.

Her soft breath dusts you every time she exhales from her nose. You wonder why; it’s not like she’s really taking air. Or maybe she’s borrowing your lungs and to the outside observer, your chest is cresting twice as quick. You’re wandering with your mind and not your eyes, you’re keeping them shut to pretend you’re dead, to remember you’re alive because you can still see her beneath the curtain of darkness. The light from the window paints the back of your eyelids red. She does not go away.

She can be nothing but real if you don’t look, if you don’t speak the truth. Your hand ventures, you hear a quiet noise when you find the warmth of her naked thigh. You drift on top, scattering tattered holy robes that you can only half-remember, cupping a cheek that hides behind decorated braids.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks. The words are without volume. They’ll go away if you think too hard so you don’t. You touch and hold, grasping her hand, cradling the back of her head. You draw her in. She comes.

“You are so unbelievably lonely,” she sighs in complaint. She could snap her fingers and make your eyes flicker open, make herself disappear. But she describes herself with every word she attributes to you. The thought crosses your mind and she gives a mighty snort.

“Try not to get so full of yourself. If I weren’t here, who knows what depths you might fall to? You should be thanking me.”

She’s right. You do. You press the thoughts into her shoulder with your lips. You get a punctured smile against your neck, in return. She’s kicking her legs the same way she would always do when she would float in the corner of your room. Haughty and impatient, so worrisome, so worried. How could someone like her fall for you? And you, for yourself.

“Truly…”

Truly. No thoughts. No future, no present. Just a body encased in yours, a warmth under the blankets you hold close to your chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary adapted from works by Donald Britton.


End file.
